I’ve been crying for three days. Crying, ranting, raging – unable to handle one more thing. Losing it with Baby Girl, losing it in general. Tears come unbidden, at any random time. I curl up in my bed and let it go for a little while. I write bitter, venting words that I share with my husband and a few friends. I cry so hard I can’t breathe. I scream at the Devil and he laughs.
And then. There’s a little sliver of light. From nowhere it comes and I welcome it. I grab it with both hands and I hang on. It came while I slept. It came somehow, without me doing anything to ask for it. It came and I saw it.
Life right now is so uncertain, so unbearable and shitty. But bear it we must. There is no other choice. And I must be the one to be strong. For Baby Girl, for my Dad, for my Mom, for me. You’ve heard it before but I’m telling you right now that when the Devil told me I couldn’t withstand the storm I almost believed him. I wanted to shake my fist at him and rage “you Mother EFFER – give me back my mom! Give me back my life and my sanity and my confidence!” And then I realized. He’s not the one.
I have never in my life given up on anything. Not when things were as bad as I thought they could possibly get, not when I lost the first baby, not when I was told I would lose Baby Girl. I had FAITH I would get through it, I bore my parents’ pain, especially my Dad’s when he cried for Baby Girl. I told him it was going to be OK – instead of him telling me. I laid my head in his lap and I told him it was going to be OK. And it was. God saved Baby Girl – and he saved all of us, too.
And so when I feel like I am not the best mom in the world, when I am downright sure I am the worst – I tell myself God gave me this one for a reason. She was meant to be mine and as hard as it is someday that reason will be clear. Everyday I fight depression so hard it threatens to swallow me and Baby Girl up with it. I fight, I struggle and I lose a lot. Depression is no joke when you’re right in the middle of it. The meme’s and “words of wisdom” that implore you to “choose happiness” – that shit doesn’t fly when you have severe depression. If I was in any way capable, I would certainly choose happiness. Wouldn’t we all?
I see happiness in that sliver of light. I can’t quite grasp it but I’m going to try. There will be more days when I can’t handle a single thing, when I yell at Baby Girl for no reason – there will be days when I am tested so hard I want to crumble. And maybe I will. For a little while.
But then, I’ll see that sliver of light – that hope and happiness and goodness – and I’ll stand up from my knees and I’ll say with strength from God “I AM THE STORM.” And the Devil better be listening cuz I’m only going to say it once. I’ll shake off his doubt and despair and I’ll cloak myself in faith. I’ll be strong again. I’ll be ME again.